Trick or Treat
by Flame4
Summary: Is the myth about Sarah Jacobs true? Kid Blink and Jack will soon find out...on Halloween! PLEASE R


Trick or Treat  
  
As a cool autumn breeze sweeps the dried, crispy leaves across my path, that day becomes so vivid again. It was long ago. We were about twelve then. Kid Blink and I were inseparable. Friends to the end, we'd always say. Kid Blink's real name was was Michael, a muscular, cute faced New Yorker, who'd earned the nickname because he had a patch over his left eye. Otherwise, he was a good and loyal friend. Little did we know that friendship would soon be tried and tested under the most unexpected of circumstances.  
  
The Jacobs house was quite a fixture in our neighborhood. Located at the end of our quiet street, it stood in all its wonderful, gothic glory. It was huge and frightening, and the stories about it had haunted and entertained neighbors for many years. Folklore had it that the house's current sole occupant, Sarah Jacobs, had murdered six members of her family there, many years ago, long before any of our current neighbors had settled into this area. She had made the claim that a demon had found itself to her in the house and commanded her to carry out the gruesome crimes. Anyway, they say that she was found insane and spent some fifty years in an institution and was released, only to return to the house to live the life of a recluse, a morbid curiosity, an outcast of sorts. Needless to say, we would always be sure to steer clear of the place at all costs.  
  
After years of dares, Kid Blink and I were determined to do it this time. Halloween was coming up and we'd been through this a thousand times before. We'd hatched the plan in complete privacy. Hell, if our parents were to find out that we were planning to Trick or Treat at the Jacobs house, they'd have our heads, for sure. I still don't know why we did it. Maybe we just wanted to do what no other kids had the nerve to do for so many years. Maybe we just wanted to impress some of the girls at school. Maybe we were just a couple of stupid kids, looking to pull off some daring, childish prank. Whatever the case, Halloween came and there we were, pacing around, trying to gain up the courage to carry it out.  
  
While groups of fellow Trick or Treaters watched in awe from a safe distance, Kid Blink and I took our final deep breaths and began to walk up the eerie cobblestone walkway towards the nightmarish mansion. My legs were trembling as I took each reluctant step, a million excuses to turn back going through my mind. Kid Blink was silent, the tannish color disappearing from his face as he walked. My heart began to beat much faster as I tried to catch the deep breaths through my cheap, paper mask. Before we knew it, we were there on the rickety, wooden front porch. There before us was the wooden door, a huge brass knocker, like something out of the movies, dangling from it. This was it, I thought. There's no turning back now. Without uttering a word, Kid Blink and I looked at each other, and I began to knock.  
  
After three hard hits and no answer, I must admit that I was relieved. We had gone further than any other kid in the neighborhood had had, but surprisingly we were spared some horrible fate. Kid Blink and I looked at each other and let out a long sigh. We turned towards the street, awaiting our hero's welcome from the other kids when we stopped dead in our tracks at the creaky sound of the massive door opening. We turned around, my eyes almost closed in anticipation of what terrifying sight I was about to behold.  
  
To our utter shock and surprise, we were greeted by the sweetest looking, most pleasant little old lady one could imagine. Slight and petite, she wore her graying hair in a neat bun and in a lovely, soft voice, she apologized for the delay in answering the door, as she slipped packets of candy, so neatly into our shopping bags. She had introduced herself as Sarah Jacobs and assured us that there were no strange goings on in her home, contrary to the stories that had gone around for years. We likewise introduced ourselves, and pleasantly surprised, enjoyed a brief, friendly conversation with her. We thanked her, and respectfully excused ourselves as she retreated back into her home.  
  
Kid Blink and I couldn't believe what we had just witnessed. The whole thing was just a rumor. Just vicious, cruel, ignorant rumor. We had exposed a fraud against a sweet, old harmless lady and we were determined to get the word out. We weren't afraid anymore as we stepped down off the porch onto the cobblestone walkway, confident and eager to spread the news. That's when I heard the faint tap on the window next to the door. It was coming from inside the house and it was loud enough to make me turn around.  
  
What my eyes were about to witness has stayed with me ever since and it will stay with me for the rest of my life. It is part of my everyday thoughts, my dreams and my fears. I think I saw it before Kid Blink even turned around. It was hideous, like something out of a nightmare within a nightmare. A freaky, horned, scaly head with eyes of fire and long, dripping teeth had replaced the pleasant, friendly face of Sarah Jacobs! Still wearing the housedress she had greeted us in, the thing raised its clawed hand to the window as if to beckon us back inside. It was everything evil and everything that is bad. I never knew the intensity of fear before that day. My legs were in motion before I could summon them, and I was off and running. Kid Blink froze in total shock at what he had seen and I could remember myself screaming to him before he knew enough to run. We ran and we ran, and we never looked back. We ran until we literally dropped in an old, abandoned field, just a block away. I remember embracing my trusted friend, and I remember the silence we shared, unable to even speak of the horror we had just witnessed. It was over now. We had to collect ourselves, we had to think straight. I could swear that Kid Blink had peed on himself, the wet stain rolling down the leg of his costume. By nightfall, we had come to terms with the incident, or at least we thought so. We had decided not to tell anyone what we had witnessed. After all, we were forbidden to set foot anywhere near that house and the story would surely get back to our parents. It was better left unsaid, a terrifying tale untold. It surely would change us, and I know I'd never look back on my childhood without it looming there, bigger than life. True to our word, Kid Blink and I cruised through our teen years and into adulthood without telling a soul.  
  
So many years have passed since that day. I still see Kid Blink when we get the free time between juggling our careers and families. He prefers to be called Michael now. And when this time of year comes around and we're sitting alone in some bar sipping a quiet beer, we find ourselves back on that porch on that Halloween night. The Jacobs house is gone now. Torn down a few years back. A small shopping mall sits there now. I guess progress doesn't care about legends and folklore, or old haunted houses. I walk by there sometimes when I'm around the old neighborhood. As a cool autumn breeze sweeps the dried, crispy leaves across my path, I want to tell a tale that is better left untold. 


End file.
